Autumn and Aran

 Happy Fall Readers!

I'm using the "Homemade Apple" font in making this post today, I personally love writing in cursive, although mine isn't quite as neat, I think it is apropos to celebrate the recent change in weather! Quite nice, quite nice indeed. Finally, I have had a reason to wear my "fisherman's" cardigan. A long while ago, or perhaps not too long ago, or perhaps even still today, there was a time where fisherman's wives would make them elaborately stitched jackets, vests, sweaters, maybe even socks. There is a bit of a story here, and I feel bold enough to tell it, admittedly only in half-truths. 

 Fishermen, for those unlearned in the ways of the oceanic occupation, are usually gone for elongated periods of time, doing grueling and sometimes dangerous work. Not every swarthy sailor who sets out to sea succeeds in returning to shore. Well, I guess that although there was a dearth of sailors returning home alive, there gave cause to consider the fates of those who did not. Drowned? Deceased? A body that is mangled is hard to identify, and the sea is a powerful force, who does not consider the flowers or those who find themselves in depths then unexplored. Those at home were left with a toise of bodies and little in the way of identifying them. Those who took notice, in the ways of people who are reliant on the land, did observe, perhaps over time, that clothes would be found intact. The gansas o' the day were made of sturdy stuff, and they were made to withstand tenebrific waters. What they purportedly learned was to create meaning from the death of their family. People, mostly wives I'm sure, began creating these jackets with intricate and specific embroideries or baubles in them, weaving symbolic runes and crests into the form of the gansa, imbuing love and safety and prosperity within each stitch. The intention, an ever-powerful force in Irish and Scottish rituals, of knowing whose jackets were attached to whom, and what they brought back with them, signifies a beautiful superstition.

I think about, in this fall weather, listening to a lovely coffee shop playlist of furious piano music, what faith it must have taken to believe stitching to carry the strength of prosperity. How many people must have shared in that belief? What are the origins of a faith that powerful? Could something that noble exist today? This sweater's evolution also is spurred on by an exchange of culture between Scottish and Irish weavers. My family hails from Scotland, and I have a fisherman's sweater, although nothing quite as formal as an Aran sweater, and I wear it fondly. It was purchased, and not made, but the person who purchased it for me knew of these myths and I believe intended the best for me as well when she did buy it for me. It warms me just to think about that.

Officially, the part of the story which refers to being able to identify a body has been debunked. Also officially, the wives of then did absolutely create particular shapes knots or embroideries to aid their men, and you can read more about the Aran sweater here. Happy Autumn readers.